


"I thought you had forgotten."

by TwoCatsTailoring



Series: Sound/Fury [11]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Celebrations, F/M, Fictober 2018, Fluff, Reflection, Ridiculous gift wrapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2021-01-23 20:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: It's Echo's birthday and her friends are cooking up something special while she reflects on the changes a year can bring.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Iron Bull, Iron Bull/Female Trevelyan
Series: Sound/Fury [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534262
Kudos: 10





	"I thought you had forgotten."

Echo stood on the balcony overlooking the garden and most of Skyhold, sipping from a bottle of Tevene vintage that Dorian had gifted her, along with a kiss on the cheek and a box of her favorite butterscotch chocolates from Orlais. She had offered to share with him, both his gift and the sweets, flowers, and wine that made up her birthday presents, but he declined. Her friends were planning something. The scurrying of the kitchen staff the past several days, the conspicuous ordering of a great deal of meat the week before, and the unmistakable scent of bookbinders glue gave it all away. But, for now, all was peaceful.

It had been ten months since the birth of the Inquisition on the steps inside Skyhold’s courtyard. In that time, the institution had grown massive, serving under what they all called her banner, doing everything they could and somehow more than was believable to stop the world from being destroyed by Corypheus and his minions.

Eight months ago, living with the constant ache of the Anchor had become so routine that she barely noticed when she broke her ankle falling off a log in the Hinterlands. Seven months earlier she’d realized that her constant fear had morphed into something like low-grade hostility. The passage of time had brought other changes as well - defined muscle where a comfortable layer of fat had resided, a higher tolerance for alcohol, better endurance. Her mind had altered too: while she no longer felt adrift in the world, she felt more out of her element. She was better able now to not take much of anything personally, and view conversations with people who were not close to her as opportunities rather than obligations.

A lot had changed since her last birthday.

Still, if she kept up this train of thought, trying so hard to keep a positive light on all the changes both good and horrible, she was going to do nothing but make herself depressed. That, she now knew from experience. Best to call a spade a spade, as they said. Life was hard and sucked right now and the bright spots - like those friends who were likely planning something loud and outlandish with a ridiculous amount of food - were what kept the bad things in balance.

Echo could hear her favorite of those bright spots making his way up the stairs into her quarters right now. There could be no mistake. Not by the way he creaked or clanked with every step. The least subtle man in all of Skyhold. But, he was her least subtle man. And if his assorted noises didn’t give him away, who else would have the nerve to smack her backside and kiss the top of her head as a greeting?

Nobody, that’s who.

“Hello to you too,” she said with a smile, smacking his arm and standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him. “Come to drag me away to whatever has Sera and Krem carrying that pole towards the Hall?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “So be ready to act surprised.”

A bright spot, indeed. She did love him. “Were you sent to distract me? Turn around and it might work better.”

Bull did turn his back to her and waggled his eyebrows at her over his shoulder when she hummed in appreciation. “I got you a little something. I hope you like it as much as the view.” Bull motioned to the desk in the room behind them, to a box that was easily the size of her torso. “You should open it before we head back downstairs.”

Echo looked between Bull and the box, debating whether she should mention that his ideas about little were a bit off but deciding against it when she realized his eye was just a little too bright for this to be something ordinary. “And here I thought you had forgotten,” she chirped brightly.

Brushing past him, she hooked a finger into his belt and dragged him through the balcony door with her. Echo tugged the bow off the box while he perched on the edge of the desk, still looking like the cat that had got the cream. Whatever was in here, he must have put some effort into. Maybe it was armor? The box was heavy enough for it. What if it was that chest plate she’d admired in Crestwood?! Surely he wouldn’t go to the trouble…?

Off came the lid, only to reveal another box within. That bow and top revealed another box, surrounded by a collection of large rocks. Echo blinked at him while Bull bit down on his lower lip, trying to keep his expression neutral. What was this about?

Another bow, another lid, another box. And more rocks. She gave Bull a wide-eyed stare as she pulled off the next layer’s bow, while he no longer bothered to hide his amusement, laughing outright at her frustrated groan.

“Whatever is in here had better not bite me once I get to it,” she groused, draping the loose ribbons over his horns and tying them in floppy bows. “Unless rocks are all I can expect?”

“No, no! Keep going,” he insisted, tilting his head to give her better access. “I promise, there’s more than just rocks and nothing will bite.” He chuckled again, “Not too hard, at least.”

Two more sets of boxes and bows and rocks later, she got what had to be the last one. No rocks, not even the gravel from the last set, could fit into this one. She lifted it out of the nest of boxes, took a deep breath and untied the ribbon.

Not much could fit in there, and for a brief moment, she worried it was jewelry. She was no stranger to pretty things, even had a collection to rival most youngest daughters back in Ostwick. She was also the keeper of her sister’s jewels until her nieces were of age to take possession. But it was all useless; as she had been a year ago. Just pretty things to look at without much hope beyond that. Easy to give with little thought, then put away to be taken out on special occasions.

He hadn’t known her long, and loving each other was still new to them both. Echo made the decision then and there to forgive him if there was some valuable, fragile bauble inside. He hadn’t had time, yet to understand that for all the Inquisition had taken from her, it had given her an identity - allowed her to be who she was, to be listened to, for her judgment and advice and decisions heeded.

The seasons’ latest styles mattered less than what she was doing (even if who she was was still irrelevant to all but a few.)

She offered him a smile, pushing back the twinge of preparatory disappointment, and opened the last lid.

The urge to hit him was momentary because on the bed of tiny little pebbles rested a thin hair comb made of dragon bone, crowned with a running fennec, it’s stripes etched into the surface of the metal and it’s eye set with a tiny oval emerald.

“Aww,” she breathed, the rush of relief almost bringing tears to her eyes. “It’s so sweet! I love it!” She handed Bull the last box and crossed to her dressing table to slide it in place in the bundle of hair at her neck.

A fennec! She fell in love with them the first time she saw the first one in the Hinterlands, glaring at anyone who killed one by accident in battles and trying unsuccessfully to get one to get within ten paces of her. They looked so soft, their faces so precious with their little black noses and bright eyes.

He’d remembered. They hadn’t seen a fennec in at least six weeks and he remembered.

Bull’s laughter at his own terrible joke had subsided into a satisfied smile with her reaction. “And see,” he pointed out, “It lays flat against your head so it won’t dig in when you’ve got your helmet on.”

It really did. The curve of it felt snug against her hair, teeth nestling into her bun and the metal smooth even when she pressed it into her scalp. Like it was made to be there. Echo smiled at him in the mirror before turning, taking his face in her hands, and dragging him down for a kiss. “So it does. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“That was still a dirty trick with the boxes though,” she admonished between kisses.

“Just wait what you see what they have planned for that pole. Might need to add these ribbons to it.” Her noise of despair was met with another laugh from Bull and he pulled her in the direction of the bed, shedding the ribbons as he went. “But not yet. I was supposed to keep you busy for an hour, and we’ve got half of that left.”


End file.
